Distributive Property
by The Plaid Slytherin
Summary: Sequel to Commutative Property. The Doctor and Jack try to work out what their relationship actually is, but the universe has other plans.
1. Chapter 1

**Notes: **Sequel to Commutative Property, second in the Property series. Thanks to LadyChi for the beta!

* * *

Jack waited until the Doctor turned around before he said anything.

"Where are you taking me?" Jack asked, trying to keep his voice even. He had no idea what the Doctor's objective was, except to humiliate him further, which he _definitely_ didn't need.

The Doctor took off his overcoat and tossed it onto the jump seat. "Just a nice, pleasant trip through the Vortex for now. I find it very soothing after stressful situations. I also find it very conducive to talking. That's what we've got to do, you and me. Man-to-man. Heart-to-heart. _Hearts_-to-heart," he corrected himself.

Jack scowled.

The Doctor sat down opposite him, leaning back against the base of the console. "First, I should probably thank you for taking care of me," he said, not looking at Jack. "I'm glad you found me." His spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully and deliberately. "It's a bit… strange." Here, the Doctor paused and looked down at his hands. Jack's attention was drawn to them for a second, but then he looked down at his lap. He had to keep reminding himself that this was _not_ John.

The Doctor started talking again. "All in all, I'm glad," he said. There were several more moments of silence and the Doctor shifted. "_But_."

Hot shame filled Jack and he buried his face in his hands, dreading what the Doctor was about to say. Hadn't they been through enough already? Did he really have to rub it in?

"_But_," the Doctor repeated. "We have an issue we need to discuss."

Jack's head snapped up. "Look, I _know_," he said angrily. "I made a mistake. I'm sorry. Just…" He shook his head. "Just take me home. I need to be alone." It was far too fresh a wound; he didn't need the Doctor to tell him that what he'd done was wrong. He already knew that. He'd known all along that he was betraying the man whose opinion he valued far above anyone else's, and he didn't think the Doctor would ever forgive him.

The Doctor watched this impassively. At last, he simply said, "No."

"What?" Jack blinked.

"No. No, I'm not taking you home, not until we come to an understanding. Because." He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Because." He shifted. "Because John Smith is me."

Jack laughed harshly. "You think I didn't already know that?"

"I think you certainly knew we have the same body," said the Doctor. "I'm rather aware of how well you knew that." He tugged awkwardly on his collar and Jack caught a glimpse of the love bite he'd left on John's neck that morning. It didn't feel like it had only been that morning.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Don't be," said the Doctor, almost automatically. "I mean…" He took a deep breath. "We have the same body, yes. And he's… he's not real, but he's the human equivalent of me. Anything he's capable of, I am, too."

Jack snorted. "You don't honestly expect me to believe that, do you?"

The Doctor cocked his head to the side. "Oh come now, Jack. You never used to be this cynical. I'm telling you the truth."

Jack got to his feet. He couldn't look into John's eyes and hear the Doctor say those words—how gullible did the Doctor think he was? "I'm leaving," he said tersely. "Take me home, or I'm going myself." He reached for the door.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," said the Doctor casually, not moving from his position on the floor. "We're still in the Vortex. I'd hate to see what would happen to you out there without any sort of working time-travel device. I mean, it could be scientifically interesting, but I do sort of like you, so..."

Jack turned. "Why are you doing this to me?"

The Doctor stood up. "Because I _care_. I could have just left you, you know. Left you to your own devices and never mentioned these past few weeks again."

"I wish you had," muttered Jack.

"What's got into you, Jack?" asked the Doctor, taking a few steps forward. "I thought that's what you wanted, to come with me."

It was true, Jack realized. He had wanted that. Before everything had gotten complicated. He sighed. "Fine," he said quietly. "I'll stay—until you find someone." He looked at the Doctor, but the other man avoided his gaze. "Is there anywhere I can get some shuteye? I've had a long day." He knew he sounded exasperated, but he didn't care. He just wanted this hell to end.

"Your old bedroom," said the Doctor, turning back to the console. "It's just as you left it."

**

Jack got chills as he entered his old room. It _was_ exactly as he'd left it, though someone—Rose?—had made his bed and folded and put away the clothes he'd left on the floor. Jack threw his coat onto a chair and kicked off his boots, but didn't even bother to undress the rest of the way. He lay down on top of the covers.

He hadn't been in this room for well over a hundred years, though it had been considerably less time for the room. Even so, it didn't seem dusty—perhaps the TARDIS automatically kept the Doctor's companions' rooms the way they'd left them, knowing how much most of them wanted to return.

He closed his eyes. This wasn't the homecoming he had envisioned, during all those years he'd been searching for the Doctor. He'd spent most of the waiting years fantasizing about how he'd find the Doctor and Rose and jump right back into the lives they'd left off on.

All his plans had been turned upside down when he'd realized Rose was gone and that the Doctor had regenerated. Not that he didn't value Martha as a friend, but it wasn't the same dynamic. Plus, at that time, Jack had had a full team of friends he cared about. Now, after losing all but one of them, Jack was beginning to think having friends was somewhat overrated.

It had shocked him how attracted he'd been to the Doctor's new body. He hadn't had time to contemplate this, what with their trip to the end of the universe and the year of hell under the Master, but after he'd returned to Torchwood and was missing the Doctor once again, the old feelings had come flooding back.

He knew he really should have been able to control himself when he'd met John, but part of him hadn't wanted to. He had taken a somewhat sick satisfaction in knowing that on some level, the Doctor, the man he had desired for so long, was his. But now…

Jack rubbed his eyes. He knew the Doctor, knew he would have said anything to get Jack to stay, and on some level, Jack did want to stay with the Doctor. After all, wasn't this all he'd wanted for all those years of waiting? He sighed. Now that he had it, Jack wasn't so sure it was such a good idea. How could he travel with the Doctor after what he'd done to him? He couldn't imagine it as anything other than supremely awkward. He had promised to stay with the Doctor until he found a suitable companion, and that's what he would do. The first place they stopped, Jack would go looking for one.

**

The Doctor lay on his back under the console, staring up at the innards of the TARDIS.

"I suppose he took rather good care of you," he admitted, taking his glasses off and sliding them back into his pocket. "I don't see anything that needs doing."

The TARDIS hummed back.

"I _did_ thank him!" he said indignantly, rolling to his feet. "And I'm not going to thank him _that way_. He doesn't want me to." The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure _I'd_ want to." He sighed and sat down on the jump seat.

He certainly cared about Jack, like he cared about all his friends. But the events of the past few weeks had convinced him that his feelings for Jack actually ran deeper than he'd previously realized and he needed some time to process this.

It was impossible to deny; the evidence was right in front of him. The chameleon arch wasn't that sophisticated, couldn't invent feelings were none truly existed. All that he and Jack had done together would be possible for them to have back.

But did he want it back? The Doctor fiddled absently with his shoelace. The memories he had of his time with Jack were vague, as if he had dreamed them. He remembered the feelings, remembered that they had been pleasant, but they didn't seem entirely real. It was like grasping at dreams in the twilight between sleeping and waking to remember how he had felt when Jack had held him.

He leaned back in his seat and stared at the ceiling of the TARDIS. He wondered whether it was even wise to try to reestablish that kind of relationship. Jack had been sullen and hostile thus far; he was clearly uncomfortable with what he had done. The Doctor wasn't even sure how he felt about it himself. He rubbed the back of his neck.

John Smith's feelings for Jack had certainly been legitimate and they had stirred something within the Doctor as well. But Jack had known very well what he was doing. Was Jack's guilt the reason he was acting like this?

He sighed. Maybe it would be safer just to remain friends, he decided, ignoring the twinge of reluctance in his stomach. The Doctor rolled to his feet and wondered where to take Jack on their first... well, date wasn't really the right word, was it? Outing. Thing. The Doctor thought for a moment. He wondered if Jack had ever been to the Great Bazaar on Catalonia. That was a nice, safe spot for a first thing. It would be nice to have innocent, friendly fun in a safe spot, especially considering the nasty habit things had of getting dangerous all of a sudden.

Something started beeping on the console. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "The X tube! No one's vented the X tube for a month, you poor thing." He frowned. "Well, at least that'll give me something to do while Jack gets his beauty sleep."

**

When Jack woke, he felt perhaps worse than when he'd gone to sleep. His head hurt and underlying that was the raw, heavy ache of losing John. The events of the previous day had been such a shock that he hadn't had time to process it, but now, he keenly felt the gaping hole in his life where his lover had been. He missed the lumpy mattress in John's flat, the teapot whistling in the kitchen, John's arms around him as he kissed Jack awake.

Waking alone for the first time never got any better, he realized, as missing John only compounded missing everyone else he'd ever cared for. But he hadn't really lost John, had he? Whether he hadn't really lost him because he had never really existed or because he was still here in the form of the Doctor, Jack couldn't tell, but he did know he could never have what he had had with John with Doctor.

It wasn't that he didn't like the lifestyle traveling with the Doctor represented—it was the kind of life Jack had lived for a long time now. The truth was, however, that he had appreciated his life with John for being the total opposite of that. He had valued the quiet domesticity of sharing a cup of tea and the Sunday paper. It was the kind of life Jack had been trying to protect for ordinary people, but he had never been able to experience it himself until John. Now, just as suddenly, his life had changed again and he'd been thrust back into life in the TARDIS.

Jack closed his eyes. He had rarely had time to grieve for the people he'd lost and he felt as though he had reached the breaking point. The enormity of having to live forever was hitting him in a way it never had before. Without a doubt, he would outlive everyone he ever cared about. And then what? He had a whole life ahead of him, but at the moment, he didn't really feel like living it.

"Jack?" There was a pounding on the door. Jack groggily opened one eye. "Jack, I know you're in there. Get a move on. We're going to have fun today."

Jack rolled over onto his side, facing away from the door.

"Shopping," the Doctor continued. "Shopping is fun. The Great Bazaar of Catalonia. Have you ever been? It's tons of fun. I know you like... fun things."

There was another pause as he waited for Jack's response.

"Come on," he said finally. There was a trace of pleading in his voice. "You and me, ten thousand other people, pounding sun, obnoxious vendors. It'll be fun. And bizarre." The Doctor jiggled the door handle. "You and me and a bizarre bazaar."

Jack sighed and sat up. He felt like crap, but if he didn't go out there, the Doctor was probably coming in. He grabbed his shoes. This was going to be a hell of a day.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack looked like death warmed over. The Doctor didn't know any other word for it... _dzixiz_, perhaps, or _plutt_, but really death warmed over was, ironically, the best. He was still wearing the same clothes he had worn the day before and had clearly slept in them, his greatcoat doing little to hide the wrinkles in his shirt. The Doctor wondered if he had even slept at all, judging by the paleness of his face and the dark circles under his eyes. He stuck his hands in his pockets, resisting the sudden urge he felt to smooth down Jack's uncombed hair with his fingers. It was sticking up in the back.

"You hungry?" he asked as he led the way back to the console room. "The Great Bazaar's famous for its _tye_ pastries. That and some nice hot _chlul_ would make a good breakfast, don't you think?"

Jack did not respond.

"Or we could have waffles. With maple syrup? Oh, and whipped cream, I love whipped cream. I bet you like whipped cream, Jack. Oh, of course you do." He cleared his throat. "I remember. You do."

Silence.

"Or we could sit around the TARDIS staring at each other. We could watch paint dry." They entered the console room and the Doctor began setting coordinates. "Maybe clean the bathroom."

Jack grunted.

"Listen, Jack," said the Doctor, yanking on a lever perhaps a bit harder than he'd meant to. The TARDIS lurched and Jack stumbled, though his sullen expression remained unchanged. "I'm trying to help, trying to give a little. I mean it, we can make this work." He cupped Jack's chin in his hand and looked into his eyes. "But we both have to try."

Jack scowled and the Doctor stepped away. Casually, he pressed a button behind him and the TARDIS materialized on the surface of Catalonia. He grabbed his coat from its place on the support and draped it over his arm. "Allons-y!"

Once out in the bright sunshine, Jack looked worse. The Doctor decided the only cure for that was pancakes. Luckily, there was a stand selling them a few yards away. Even in the fifty-fourth century, pancakes remained unchanged. There are some things that need no improvements.

"What have you got on you?" the Doctor asked Jack, as they reached the head of the queue.

Jack reached into his pocket. "Four quid."

The Doctor sighed and pulled out the psychic paper. "Guess it's on me, then. One day, I'll have to remember to start carrying money, if all our outing things are going to be like this." Jack didn't respond, but he accepted the synfoam plate of pancakes without protest. The Doctor regarded this as progress.

They found a picnic table in a grassy area to eat. Well, the Doctor ate. Jack just picked at his food, while the Doctor talked at him cheerfully and loudly, so as to be heard over the passing shoppers and shouting children.

"It's fascinating," the Doctor exclaimed, "...how you're not listening to a word I'm saying."

"I am," said Jack, trailing his fork through the pool of syrup on the edge of his plate.

"Pop quiz, then. Who did I come here with last? Hint: You know her."

Jack wrinkled his nose. "Donna?"

"Oh, sorry. The answer I was looking for was Sarah Jane." The Doctor sighed and laid his fork down. "We can go if you're not having fun. Unless there's nowhere you _would_ have fun." He was getting tired of Jack's attitude.

Jack shook his head and speared a piece of pancake. "We can stay."

The Doctor grinned. "Brilliant!" Grudging acquiescence was something of an improvement over passive resistance. "Where should we go first? Books? Handicrafts? Ooh, street performers! I hope they have a one-man band!" He was plainly conscious of the fact that he was just filling air with sound, hoping Jack would respond to something he was saying.

Thankfully, when they had finished eating, Jack stood and followed him down one of the aisles, though he did tend to just follow the Doctor like a petulant child instead of looking at any of the wares himself. The Doctor hadn't originally intended to shop but he was beginning to think he might get something for Martha and Gwen. After all, they had to deal with Jack on an hourly basis and he was beginning to appreciate what a respectable feat that was.

The Doctor's gaze fell on a stall laden with jewelry and other goods. "Look at this!" He reached for a large gold urn adorned with intricate carvings. "This is lovely!"

"That's Xoviccian Fertility Pot," said the old woman behind the counter. She eyed the Doctor and Jack. "Are you hoping for a little one?"

The Doctor set the pot down quickly. "No," he said, pushing it away with the tips of his fingers. "Definitely not."

"Ah, well, you're young yet." She smiled and leaned in conspiratorially. "Maybe you'd like a nice present for your husband? We have a wide variety of—"

"Oh, we're not married," said the Doctor quickly, despite the way his stomach flip-flopped at the fact that the woman had mistaken them for a couple.

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah," said the Doctor, turning away. He snorted. "Definitely not married." _At least not at the rate we're going_.

"What was that?" asked Jack when the Doctor had joined him again.

The Doctor looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"_That_," he pointed back at the stall, where the old woman was showing her wares to a slim, dark-haired woman.

"What?" The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. "She asked if we were a couple. We aren't." He hoped it would end here, but Jack seemed to be on a short fuse.

"You can stop rubbing it in now," he snapped. "I get it, okay?"

The Doctor blinked. "Get what?"

"If you don't want me around, I can just go." He turned, coat snapping and stalked away.

"Where are you going?" the Doctor sputtered, completely confused.

"Somewhere else," said Jack tersely.

"But... but you don't have transport!" The Doctor tried to run after Jack, but the crowd was rapidly filling in the spaces between them.

"I know," called Jack. "Fifty-fourth century? I think I can adapt."

And then he was gone. The Doctor froze, scanning the crowd. Jack was gone. The Doctor's shoulders slumped and he turned, heading back the way he'd come. He'd wait—five and a half hours, maybe. Jack would come back to the TARDIS.

**

Jack had expected to feel much better after storming off, but instead, he felt very guilty. He couldn't help but imagine the Doctor sitting glumly in the TARDIS, waiting for him to come back, though he knew that probably the Doctor was already off somewhere else, having fun. Perhaps with the nearest blonde.

Jack needed a drink. He scanned the stalls in front of him, looking for something that looked like it might dispense refreshing beverages. He finally settled on one of the few actual buildings in the bazaar, a dark and dusty establishment with a crowded bar, where he ordered some Arnelian fire ale and paid for it with the money in his pocket.

"Trust me, it's money," he told the bewildered barkeep as he grabbed his bottle and turned to go. He hadn't gotten halfway across the bar when he heard a woman's voice.

"Not interested, sorry."

"Come on, baby. Don't think you can resist a fine specimen like this, can you?" Jack glanced at them out of the corner of his eye. Two men were surrounding a young woman with long dark hair—Jack realized he recognized her from the old woman's stall. She had arrived just as he and the Doctor were leaving.

The woman snorted. "You lot really are thick if you—ah!" Jack whirled. One of the men had grabbed the woman and was twisting her arm behind her back. The more she struggled, the tighter he held her.

"Let go of her!" Jack barked, striding forward.

The man holding the woman released her and narrowed his eyes at Jack. "Who the hell are you?"

"Someone who knows how to treat a lady." Jack reached down to help the woman up. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness," he said to her.

She smiled. "I'm Melody— oh, look out!" Jack spun just in time to feel the full force of the man's punch in the center of his nose. Jack stumbled back, dropping his bottle. They were both definitely broken.

"Oh, that makes me real mad," muttered Jack. "That was my last four quid." He ducked the second man's swing, sending him into the floor. When he tried to rise, Jack elbowed him in the top of the head.

"That was easy enough," he said, grinning at Melody. She screamed and Jack turned, just in time to realize that the first man had had a gun.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack was getting far too used to this not-dying thing. He didn't even realize he'd been shot until he was coming to, again, not even a minute later, sucking the air back into his lungs. The bar had cleared as soon as the other patrons had heard the gunfire; the man who had shot Jack, as well as his friend were some of the last to go, looking, horror-struck, over their shoulders as Jack eased himself into a sitting position, wincing and rubbing his forehead where the bullet wound was closing up.

Melody screamed again.

"Could you keep it down?" Jack asked. "I kind of have a headache."

"Sorry," said Melody, dropping to her knees beside him. "How did you... How did you _do_ that?" She reached out in wonder, brushing her fingertips across the smooth skin of his forehead. Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe off the blood.

"Everyone has a hidden talent," he said, wincing as he noticed his nose still hurt. "I'm also double-jointed."

"But that's impossible!"

Jack bent his thumb back to show her. "No, it's not."

"You know what I mean!" She reached out to help him up.

"It's a long story," he told her, dusting himself off. "Let's try this introduction thing again."

"All right." Melody brushed back the wisps of hair that had escaped her long plait. "I'm Melody Kessler, twenty-eight, no job, no money, no boyfriend."

Jack laughed. "Well, we've got something in common." He shook her hand. "Captain Jack Harkness, no job, no money, no boyfriend."

Melody raised an eyebrow. "No _boyfriend_? So I guess that means I shouldn't even bother?"

Jack shrugged and led the way out of the bar. "You can if you want to." It wasn't like he had a chance with the Doctor, and she wasn't bad-looking...

"Oh, no, but you've got someone," said Melody plainly.

Jack raised an eyebrow. He didn't even realize she'd seen them.

"The bloke with the brown suit and the hair?" Melody gestured vaguely above her head. "He's not yours?"

Jack sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets. "It's complicated." His hand closed around the watch and he pulled it out. It was broken; the face had apparently been shattered in the fight.

Melody checked her wristwatch, thinking he wanted to know the time. "It's half eleven. Where's your friend?"

Jack sighed. "We had a little disagreement."

"I know," said Melody. "Complicated. I'm sorry for prying. It's just... you never break the habit."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." She smiled. "I was a reporter–an investigative journalist. Before I got the sack. Apparently, even investigative journalists aren't supposed to blow the whistle on the corporation that runs the paper."

"My friend would like you," Jack observed. "That is, if he's not gone now." He surveyed the crowd, somewhat hoping to catch a glance of a familiar tall form.

Melody raised an eyebrow. "What about _you_? What do _you_ think?"

"I think..." Jack sighed. "I think..."

Melody smiled. "I think I should buy you something to replace that drink. Come on." She led the way over to a nearby stall, which was selling what looked like milkshakes.

"I thought you had no money," said Jack.

Melody shrugged. "I've still got the last of what they paid me off with."

**

Jack and Melody took their milkshakes to an out-of-the-way bench. It was rather comfortable, chatting there in the shade. Melody was a nice person and he enjoyed talking to her. It also gave Jack time to think. He should really introduce Melody to the Doctor–she was just his type. But that would mean the Doctor would drop Jack off back in Cardiff–was that what he really wanted?

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. What he _really_ wanted was to stay with the Doctor. He couldn't be John, but Jack cared deeply about the Doctor as well. He realized he wanted to stay with him, even if they couldn't have that kind of relationship. However... The Doctor's words echoed in his head: "Everything he's capable of, I am, too."

Jack shook his head. As much as he wanted it, it couldn't mean _that_. Could it?

"You are a life form of interest. You will come with us."

Jack jerked his head up, disoriented.

"What?"

Melody looked at him and giggled. "When did they add those in? They're kind of cute."

Jack stared at the four figures that were standing before them. They looked like humans, but they weren't–they were cyborgs. And they weren't part of the bazaar–they were armed. They were trap runners.

"Run!" he shouted at Melody. He grabbed her hand and took off. One of them fired its blaster pistol, narrowly missing Melody. Jack spun and pulled his own gun from his holster, firing twice. He managed to hit two of the trap runners; they collapsed in a shower of sparks. One of the others fired his blaster directly at Jack's gun. He dropped it, rubbing his singed hands.

"It was worth a try," he muttered.

One of the trap runners stepped forward and scanned them both. He pointed at Melody. "Subject: human. Condition: normal." One of the others grabbed her and shoved her to the side.

"Oi!" she cried. "What are you going to do to him?"

Jack raised his hands above his head. "There's nothing we can do," he said, his mouth going dry. "They're trap runners. They're programmed to find anything interesting and take it back to their masters. Kind of like catching animals for a private zoo."

Melody's eyes widened. "But you're interesting!"

"Yeah," said Jack, holding stock-still as the leader of the trap runners scanned him. "That's kind of the problem."

"Subject: human. Condition." He paused, as if processing something. "Condition: wrong."

"Oh, great," muttered Jack. "Not you, too."

The last thing he remembered was the cattle prod to the spine.

**

The Doctor's five-and-a-half hours had turned into six. He'd already eaten his way through a multitude of delectable sweets and had tried to do a little shopping, but there was nothing he'd really wanted to buy. He was just afraid to resign himself to the fact that Jack wasn't coming back.

"Oi! Oi!" The Doctor turned. A woman ran up to him and grabbed his arm. "You're Jack's boyfriend, aren't you?"

The Doctor shook his head and turned away. "Nope. He's not my boyfriend."

"But he's in trouble!"

The Doctor reached into his pocket for his TARDIS key and went to unlock the doors. "Oh? What's he done now? Flirted his way someplace sticky?"

"No, there were these men... he called them.... tread riders? Oh, trig trappers?"

The Doctor froze. "Trap runners." He threw open the doors and leapt onto the TARDIS. This was terrible. This was _beyond_ terrible. It had been trap runners he had used the chameleon arch to escape–they'd been too near Earth, too intent on capturing a live Time Lord. The trap runners were relentless, just as persistent as whatever private zoo owner they worked for was willing to pay for.

He shrugged off his overcoat and tossed it onto the jump seat. The woman had followed him onto the TARDIS.

"Melody Kessler," she said, noticing him staring.

"You shouldn't be here," said the Doctor. He didn't need some woman Jack had picked up slowing him down. He began punching buttons.

"Why?" she asked accusingly. "What harm can I do?"

The Doctor jerked down on a lever. "In my experience, plenty."

"Excuse me," said Melody, leaning forward. "Have we met before? I don't even know your name."

"I'm the Doctor," he said. "Hold that down, will you?"

Melody pressed her finger down on the button the Doctor had pointed to. "He sure can pick them," she muttered.

The Doctor ignored this, frowning in concentration. This would require some difficult maneuvering. The trap runners would likely have the best ship in orbit around this planet and once they got going, it would be very difficult for even the TARDIS to catch up to them, much less outrun them.

"What are you doing?" asked Melody.

The Doctor tore around the console, flipping switches furiously. "Following Jack. If I can just get this locked on to his biological signature.... Come on!" He pounded the mallet against the console. "You know Jack, you know what he looks like."

"Of course, I do," said Melody. "I've just met him."

"I was talking to the TARDIS." The Doctor dropped to his knees and stuck his head under the console.

"What's a Tarbis?" Melody peered around the center column, but she didn't take her hand off the button.

"TARDIS," said the Doctor. "This ship. Time and relative dimension in space." He crawled out from the under the console, wires coiled around his shoulder. "Didn't you notice that it was bigger on the inside?"

Melody cocked her head to the side. "Come to think of it, yeah. How did you do that?"

"Very complicatedly," said the Doctor, unwinding the wires across the room, draping them over the railing.

"The same kind of complicated as having a boyfriend who can take a bullet to the head and still be alive?"

"Different kind of complicated." The Doctor pointed the sonic screwdriver at a box he'd pulled out from under the grating. "And he's not my boyfriend. There!" he suddenly exclaimed.

Melody jumped. "What?" she asked nervously.

"This is going to take some fancy flying. They've jumped into the Vortex," said the Doctor, leaping for the console and hitting several buttons at once. "Take your hand off that button and pull down on that lever, yes, that one." He grinned, leaning in to the monitor. "I've got a lock on his signal. It's not exact, but we should materialize in the same ship." He frowned. "Or at least one very nearby." He made a face. "Same galaxy, at least. Hopefully."

Melody finally cracked a smile. "That's a start at least."

"Exactly. Wonderful attitude, Melody Kessler." He grabbed her hand and pulled the doors open. "You fit right in."


	4. Chapter 4

Jack hated chains. Other forms of restraint could be enjoyable (if the right person was doing the restraining), but chains were decidedly unfun. They chafed.

Jack wondered if there was even any point to yelling. His captors were cyborgs; they might not even understand the meaning of any of the colorful names he might call them, much less comply with his demands to be let go.

This didn't stop him from yelling anyway.

He was held just high enough off the ground that his feet couldn't get purchase on the floor. It was making his shoulders ache, which was only compounded by the lingering pain of his earlier injuries.

He sighed. He supposed he ought to resign himself to his fate. He didn't have a weapon, and of course, his vortex manipulator didn't work, so there was no way he could escape. The Doctor would probably never find him again, if he even _wanted_ to find him. Being immortal kind of precluded the need to contemplate one's own death, but it had never occurred to Jack that he might spend the rest of his life in a zoo.

"I hope they feed me regularly," he said thoughtfully. "Maybe they'll give me one of those big balls to play with. That might be fun."

"Thinking about balls at a time like this? You've sure got a one-track mind, Jack."

Jack started. "Doctor?" Or was his mind playing tricks on him?

"In the flesh," said the voice on the other side of the wall. "If you'll just–Melody, that was my foot!"

"Sorry!"

"Where are you guys?" asked Jack, craning his neck towards the sound of their voices.

"We're in the vent," said the Doctor. "Hello." He wiggled his fingers through the grating.

"I can't get up," said Jack. "I'm chained."

"Oh, you do know how to play hard to get. Hold on." Jack heard the sound of the sonic screwdriver and the grate fell away, striking him on the head.

"Ow!"

"Sorry." The Doctor followed a second later, landing right in front of him. "You stay up there," he instructed Melody. "I'll hand him up to you." The Doctor pointed the sonic screwdriver at Jack's manacles. "Hold still!" he ordered.

"I'm trying," protested Jack. "I don't want you to sonic my hand off."

"Hurry!" hissed Melody. "Someone's coming."

The Doctor had freed Jack's left hand from the manacle and was working furiously on the right. Jack could her metallic footsteps in the corridor. They were coming.

"Doctor!" he hissed, trying not to let his fear show. Now that the Doctor was here, they would try to capture him, too. He'd be even more valuable than Jack: the last Time Lord. "You should go, they'll–"

"I know," said the Doctor. He wiggled the pin that was holding the manacle closed. "I've escaped them once. And I'm not leaving you." Jack did not have time to process this pronouncement, as the Doctor gave a great yank and the pin came away, freeing Jack.

"Come on," said the Doctor, pulling Jack to his feet. He was rather unsteady. "We've got to–"

"Additional life forms detected."

Panicked, the Doctor shoved Jack toward the wall. "Pull him up!"

The door slid open and two trap runners entered. One of them held a scanner out. The Doctor froze.

"Subject: Time Lord."

Jack reached for Melody's hands but she couldn't get to him.

The Doctor raised his arms above his head. "Let him go," he said evenly. "Let my friend go."

"We are not in a position to make deals." One of the trap runners grabbed Jack; the other restrained the Doctor.

"How do we get out of this?" asked Jack, as the trap runners began to frog-march them down the hall.

The Doctor shook his head. "We don't," he said quietly. "If we try to run, they'll find us. That's why I had to use the chameleon arch. I had to get away from them."

Jack blinked. In all the confusion, the Doctor had never told him what it was the he had been hiding from. "It was them?"

"The very same patrol." The Doctor glanced at Jack out of the corner of his eye. "Where are the other two? There were four of them, there are always four."

"That was me," said Jack. "I, uh, sort of shot two."

The Doctor looked at him incredulously. "You _shot_ two?"

Jack looked down at his feet. He knew the Doctor didn't like guns.

"Oh, Jack, you're a genius! Not as big a genius as me of course, but you're certainly gaining. _Lead!_ We need _lead_! Their tertiary circuits go anti-magnetic when they're brought into contact with a lead alloy! Can you get to your pockets? Anything in there that might have lead?"

Jack frowned. There was a pencil in his coat pocket, but he couldn't reach that. His hand crept toward his trouser pocket... the watch?

"I've got the watch," he said quietly.

The Doctor's expression remained impassive; if the reminder that Jack still had it bothered him, he didn't show it.

"Give it here," he said quietly. Jack handed it over. As soon as he had it, the Doctor turned, wrenching himself out of the trap runner's grasp.

"You will be restrained."

"Oh, no," said the Doctor quietly. "I really don't think that's a good idea." He shook the broken glass out and popped off the face of the watch, jabbing his sonic screwdriver at the mass in his hands. "You wouldn't hit a man with lead, would you?"

The trap runners didn't have time to respond before they started sparking.

"Come on!" The Doctor grabbed Jack's hand and took off down the corridor. Jack stumbled; he hadn't stood for hours. The last thing he remembered was taking the full brunt of the explosion.

**

Melody was waiting by the cell door when the Doctor stumbled up, Jack held limply in his arms.

"Is it always like this with you two?" she asked.

"Help me," he panted. "Help me get him back to the TARDIS."

Together, the Doctor and Melody managed to half-drag, half-carry Jack all the way back to his own bed.

"Will he be all right?" she asked.

"Yeah," said the Doctor, not looking at her. "He's always all right."

"What about you?"

The Doctor looked at her. "Me too. I'm always all right, too."

Melody frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure!" said the Doctor brightly. "Now, Melody. I hope you'll be joining us. Me. Whatever."

Melody raised an eyebrow.

"Come on!" he crowed. "It'll be fun. I mean, if Jack… if Jack wants to go home, it could just be you and me."

Melody took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I just… I don't know. I mean, today… today was just so… I don't know."

The Doctor nodded. He certainly hoped one of them would stay, but it was looking increasingly unlikely. He'd plucked Melody out of her ordinary life, as he seemed to do to all his companions. Likewise, he'd treated Jack badly; he would be totally justified if he wanted to return home.

When Melody had gone to the bedroom the Doctor had directed her to, the Doctor sat on the edge of Jack's bed. Jack was still unconscious, his breathing shallow. The Doctor idly reached out to brush his hair back from his forehead.

"Rough day, we've had," he said. "Though I guess it's not the roughest."

He stood up and paced the room, hands in his pockets. "Thanks, by the way. It was good you were still carrying that thing around." He sighed. "Oh, I knew I'd be rubbish at this. I guess you're okay," he said. "I mean, you're alive. No visible injuries." He sat down again next to Jack's head.

"Just sleeping." He sighed. "You know, when you're sleeping, you look almost cute." Silence. "I guess you really are asleep. Either that, or you're _really_ having me on."

He stood up and stuck his hands in his trouser pockets. "Listen, Jack. I've been... well, I suppose I haven't exactly been nice to you lately. I mean, you don't get off the hook, mind, but... Look. I'm just going to, er, move the TARDIS. This ship we're parked on is still going wherever it's going to go and I'd really rather not be on it when it gets there. Don't wake up while I'm gone."

The Doctor crept out of Jack's bedroom and back to the console room. He debated about where to take the TARDIS–maybe it would just be simpler to stay in the Vortex, but he decided to go back to Catalonia. He had an idea.

**

Jack's dreams were short and fitful, but John Smith was a constant presence in them, holding him close. Jack couldn't remember any of the things that he said, but for a few lingering moments after he woke, he could still feel long fingers running soothingly through his hair.

He tried to hold on to the dreams as long as possible but eventually wakefulness overcame him fully. He sat up slowly and was surprised to see the Doctor sitting in a chair by the bed.

Jack slumped back down. "How long have you been there?"

"The whole time," said the Doctor gently. "How are you feeling?"

"Been better. How's Melody?"

"She's fine. She's resting. Next stop: Cardiff."

Jack groaned and slumped back against the bed. So here it was. The end. He was getting dumped in favor of the new model.

"Oh, here," said the Doctor suddenly. "I bought you something." He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and brought out a gaily-wrapped parcel. "Sorry about the paper saying Happy Birthday. It was either that or pink ponies."

Jack stared.

The Doctor shook the package under his nose. Finally, Jack took it and unwrapped it. It was a gold pocket watch.

"It's a watch," said the Doctor unnecessarily. "A real watch. And look, it automatically calibrates itself to local time. Isn't that neat? You step out of the TARDIS, and bang, it knows what time it is." He grinned. "It even gets weather, look."

Jack tossed the watch onto the bed in front of him. "Why did you give me this?"

The Doctor looked at him incredulously. "A simple thanks would have sufficed."

"What are you trying to do, bribe me?" Jack spat.

"What?" the Doctor sputtered. "I gave you a present, Jack. I was rude back there at the bazaar and I wanted to apologize." He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked away. "Plus, I sort of broke your... the old one."

"And to make the transition back a little easier, hm? Isn't it a watch they always give the guy before he retires?"

The Doctor's mouth dropped open. "_Retires?_ What are you on about?"

Jack jerked his head to the doorway to indicate Melody. "You're retiring me, aren't you?"

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Ohh.... You thought.... Jack, you thought... no. No. I thought you _wanted_ to go home... after the way I treated you."

Jack shrugged and looked away.

"Do you?" the Doctor prompted.

Jack looked down at the watch, which proclaimed the time to be ten forty-five in the morning. He wondered how it reckoned that.

"Because…" the Doctor continued. "There's a lot we could still do. You don't have to go just yet. I can take you back right after you left; you can run down the street after Martha and Gwen. Time machine, remember?

"And plus." The Doctor sat on the edge of the bed. Jack stiffened. "We've still got to meet Euclid. You want to do that? For old times' sake?"

"For old times' sake," repeated Jack. He wasn't sure where this was going.

"Yep. Good old Euclid, now there's genius. Shame I never got to write that book."

"Doctor…" said Jack warningly.

"I mean it, Jack," said the Doctor hastily. "I _want_ to try." He reached out and took Jack's hand. "Please?"

Jack looked up at him. "Okay," he said, trying to smile. "We can try."

"Brilliant!" exclaimed the Doctor. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against Jack's. It was a chaste kiss, but Jack got a little thrill out of being able to kiss John's lips once again. _He's not John_, he reminded himself, and really, that wasn't hard to forget, given the difference in body temperature. It was jarring: cool, but not unpleasantly so, and there was that taste again, something he'd always sensed in John's kisses, but it was stronger now.

When they broke apart, the Doctor was still smiling and Jack found himself smiling back. It was a start, at least. That was certainly something.


	5. Chapter 5

The next few days were interesting. They moved slowly, which was fine with Jack–he was still a little unsure of himself and it was strange that this territory was at times comfortingly familiar and startlingly alien. They didn't progress much past kissing, however, and Jack wasn't sure whether it was himself or the Doctor who was holding them back.

Despite all this, they were still traveling with Melody. They went to see an erupting volcano (once the Doctor had made sure it wasn't one Jack had visited during his time as a conman) and the Blue Moon of Gyro. Euclid was sort of a bore, and it would up being the Doctor who turned him on to the commutative property.

"What happened to not interfering?" asked Melody, as they made their way back to the TARDIS. Euclid had been at a party and they'd stayed rather late–Euclid may have been a bore, but his friends were fun. "That's the first thing you said about Time Lords–sworn never to interfere."

"Oh, that's the old days!" exclaimed the Doctor. "New days... well, he needed a little shove in the right direction."

"He had associative and distributive," offered Jack.

"Exactly!" said the Doctor, grabbing Jack's hand and swinging it back and forth. "Two out of three ain't bad."

Jack grinned and squeezed the Doctor's hand.

When they'd reached the TARDIS again, Melody went to bed early, leaving the Doctor and Jack standing together in the console room.

"Did you have plans for the rest of the evening?" the Doctor asked casually.

Jack shook his head. "Do you?"

The Doctor took a few steps toward him. "I was thinking we could spend it together," he said softly.

Jack looked away. He wasn't sure he was ready to go that far. He cared deeply for the Doctor, but part of him still wondered if he was betraying John.

"I don't know," he murmured.

The Doctor placed a hand on his chest. "If you're not sure, we don't have to," he said seriously.

Jack shook his head. "It's not that, I just…"

"Just what?"

Jack took a step back and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know," he said finally.

The Doctor nodded and took a step back, though he seemed somewhat reluctant. "Fine, fine, that's fine." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "I've actually got some work to do." He gestured vaguely at the console. "Always work to be done. Good night."

"You sure?" asked Jack, as he made to go.

"Sure, I'm sure!" said the Doctor, turning a dial. "Whatever you want, Jack, I'm fine with that."

He didn't sound fine, but Jack left it at that and went to bed. Things were much better the next morning; the Doctor didn't allude at all to their conversation the previous night. When Jack came into the console room, the Doctor gave him a quick kiss.

"We're going to the beach today!" he proclaimed, grinning.

"The beach?" asked Melody incredulously, coming into the room.

"Yes, the beach!" The Doctor turned back to the console and fiddled with something. "I love a good beach."

"And it's just a beach?" asked Melody. "No sand monsters, no sharks?"

The Doctor cocked his head. "Why did you jump straight to sand monsters?"

She shrugged. "Thought you'd prefer sand monsters to sharks."

The Doctor grinned. "That I do. You're getting to know me well." He sprang toward the doors, indicating that Jack and Melody should follow. "I _think_ we're just in time to see the sunrise. The beach at Rab-ele-roo–that means prism." He pulled the doors open and led them out onto the planet.

"Oh, it's lovely," Melody breathed.

The Doctor smiled. "Isn't it just?"

Jack had to admit the sight was beautiful. The rays of the rising sun hit the sand in such a way that it gave the beach a rainbow effect.

"It's the sand," the Doctor explained as the three of them walked toward the ocean. "Each grain has a highly crystalline structure, which causes the prisming effect. Combine that with the particles in the atmosphere–see those purple clouds?–and it makes the sunrise especially brilliant. Sunset's just not as nice, it's all the wrong angles."

Jack nodded. He was remembering the time he'd spent on the beach with John. The Doctor seemed to realize this and he gave Jack's hand a gentle squeeze. "Other places, though," he added, "have quite nice sunsets."

When the sun came up fully, the Doctor decided they could make a day of it–somewhat reluctantly, Jack noted, as the Doctor looked like he would probably much rather have had an afternoon of running from something that wanted to eat them than an afternoon at the beach.

Jack settled down by the TARDIS, watching the surf come in. The Doctor and Melody were further down the beach, collecting shells. He sighed. He knew the Doctor was trying, but he still couldn't help part of him missing John. Would this be an impediment to their relationship? He thought about the night before. The Doctor had seemed so disappointed when Jack had gone to bed alone and he hated to see that look on his face.

"What are you thinking?" the Doctor asked suddenly. Jack jumped. He hadn't even noticed the Doctor sit down next to him.

The Doctor had his trainers off and was wiggling his toes in the sand. It was very distracting. He followed Jack's line of sight. "_Oh_. Foot man, are you? Or just an everything man?" He lay back and rested his hands behind his head. "Personally, I'm… oh!" He sat up again. "Sand. I've got… sand… down my shirt." He shrugged off his suit jacket and began furiously shaking it out.

Jack laughed.

"Oi!" cried the Doctor. "Don't _laugh_ at my misfortune." He grabbed a handful of sand and lunged at Jack. He ducked out of the way, but the Doctor caught the back of his coat and pulled him down toward him, flinging the sand at him. Jack was still laughing.

"You're terrible," said the Doctor. He lay on top of Jack and brushed some sand off his forehead. "Terrible and full of hormones. Love humans! You're so… open."

"Oh?" Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Yup," said the Doctor. "I know exactly what you're thinking. You're thinking about me, you're thinking how you're still not positive about all this."

Jack sighed and turned his head to the side so all he could see was the blue wooden side of the TARDIS.

"It's not that," he finally said.

"You still aren't sure I really mean it," the Doctor continued. "Or rather, you aren't sure _you_ really mean it. Because it's not that you think I'm lying, it's that you think you think you're betraying someone."

Jack turned his head back to look at the Doctor. His brown eyes were warm and serious. "You know, Jack, the commutative property goes both ways."

Jack blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I like you and John Smith liked you." He slid his fingers into Jack's hair. "And you liked John Smith and you like me." He lifted his head, looking at something behind where they were lying. "Human or Time Lord, it seems always seems to come down to you and me."

Jack didn't say anything.

"And we _are_ the same man." The Doctor took a deep breath. "Really. I told you before that I was capable of anything he was, but that's not strictly true. I can't have a normal life. But neither can you."

Jack flicked his gaze away.

"What were you going to do?" the Doctor prompted. "When he realized you didn't age? When he realized neither of you existed? Even in a month, he knew you were lying to him. You'd never be able to live a life with him. Your life would come crashing through and destroy his. It _did_."

"I know," said Jack.

The Doctor's gaze returned to Jack's face and Jack found himself succumbing to the pull of it, locking eyes with the other man again. "He certainly didn't _want_ to change back, he wanted to stay with you. And in a way, he's getting the chance to. Because I remember _everything_, Jack. I remember how he felt about you, because those are _my_ feelings. The time we spent together is just as much a part of my memory as anything else I've ever done. I am John Smith, fully and completely, except I _can_ share this type of life with you."

Jack kissed him. The Doctor seemed surprised at first, but he welcomed the kiss enthusiastically, tangling his hands in Jack's hair. Jack wasn't sure if it was minutes, hours, days, weeks that passed, but they were both breathing hard when they broke the kiss, and then the Doctor kissed him again.

Again, Jack lost track of time. He vaguely remembered the Doctor murmuring something about going back into the TARDIS, remembered them leaving the door open for Melody and the Doctor saying something about giving her a key later.

But then they were in Jack's bedroom and he was kissing the Doctor again, had perhaps never stopped kissing him since they were lying on the beach. The Doctor's hands were moving, divesting him of his braces, unbuttoning his shirt after a whispered request for permission.

Jack was overwhelmed. This was at the same time nothing and everything like being with John. It was exploring familiar territory for the first time–that spot on his neck still made him hiss, so he kept nipping at it until the Doctor practically melted in his arms. There were other spots, spots that John had loved to have attention in that did nothing for the Doctor, and then were wholly new spots that made the Doctor cry out. Jack knew he wasn't going to rest until he'd found every one of them, especially, as the Doctor seemed to know everything about Jack, knew exactly what he liked, a fact he proved over and over again.

It was hard to comprehend that this was the same man, he thought after, as they lay in a tangle of limbs and sheets. The same hair was tickling his chin and the same arm was draped over his waist, but he could feel the beat of two hearts against his chest.

He pulled the Doctor closer, absently rubbing his back.

So the Doctor did actually sleep. Jack smiled to himself. He was looking forward to finding out all these things he hadn't known.

He closed his eyes. It seemed so peaceful lying there together, quite different to the hectic life they lived outside of the TARDIS.

Maybe this meant he _could_ have some of the life he'd had with John with the Doctor. Not entirely, of course–the Doctor would never settle down, and Jack wasn't even sure he wanted to, either.

But there were the quiet moments, like this one, and as Jack lay there and listened to the Doctor's shallow breathing, coupled with the hum of the TARDIS, he realized _this_ was the right thing, intrinsically. They had always loved traveling and they always _would_ love traveling and they'd do it together.

It had a correctness to it, this life, Jack thought, a correctness so absolute that it was almost, well, _mathematical_.


End file.
